Saw: The Road Trip
by Kalika Barlow
Summary: -AU- Breaking off from the monotonous routine of everyday life, the elusive Jigsaw Killers, including two new additions, hit the road to nowhere, meeting up with a few unlikely, familiar faces along the way.
1. Welcome to the Team

**Disclaimer: The Saw franchise does NOT belong to me, neither do any of its affiliates or characters, no matter how much I wish they did. **

**This was NOT written by me. I claim to be the fountain-head of the idea, but this is written by my best friend, who doesn't have an account on here. **

* * *

**_Quote of the Day:_**

**_"My life is a sippy-cup of despair!"_**

* * *

"Is that it?"

"I guess so."

"Where's my iPod?" Amanda demanded, emerging from the pile of luggage in the back of the spacious Four Wheel Drive.

Juliet Autumn looked up from the checklist she was studying.

"Amanda, no iPods. Remember John had a big blow up. "Ra-ra-ra cherish your life, ra-ra, iPods are _distasteful…"" a_fter a dramatic pause from the short brunette, the two chimed in together, "to me!"

Amanda went back to brooding while leaning on the car, her thin frame slumped into a forlorn C.

John glided out of the house with his bags and dumped them in the boot, staring at Juliet intensely. She visibly shrank back from his stare. Clearing her throat, her dark eyes flickered between the list and John.

"Y-yes, John?" she mumbled while scribbling her pen nervously. Usually she was quite forthright with him, but no one could stand up to The Stare. No one.

"Give it to me. Now," he ordered in his usual breathy tone.

Faltering only slightly, she took a deep breath.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Your iPod, give it to me."

"No!"

"I'm not above putting you in a trap."

"Who else will make brownies for you and clean the warehouse?"

"Unless you give it to me now, no Cable for a month. Make your choice."

Juliet suddenly dropped the clipboard and pressed the small red device into his pale hands.

"Please don't take away my Cable! Not the Sci-Fi channel!"

"Just… go."

As she scampered off, John couldn't help but smirk and mentally hi-five himself. He still had it.

His smirk was somewhat ruined as he heard many spirited "Whoop, whoop!" noises quickly approaching from behind him.

His small, redheaded apprentice slung an arm around him and beamed at the loaded car.

"This is gonna be a blast!" Genevieve Bateman tightened her one arm hug on him. Sure he was a psycho, but he was a cool guy in her eyes.

"Excessive public displays of affection are _distasteful…"_

"To me," she cut him off with a roll of her eyes. She bounced off to throw her things in the car and find Juliet.

John went to recline in the driver's seat, knowing that Amanda was by his side, quiet, observant and creepy as ever and that the chaos that was his life was momentarily being directed at the other male in this insane excuse for a family.

***

"Move!" Juliet demanded, poking the large male in his side.

"Oomph…" Hoffman mumbled into the pillow.

"I told you he wouldn't be awake, Gen," Juliet sighed triumphantly, holding out her hand to accept the winnings of the bet from her friend.

"Maybe we should get a glass of cold water?" Gen suggested.

"Nah… he has that peaceful sleeping look. It's so… comfortable looking."

"So?"

"So, I really, _really _want to ruin it!" Juliet cackled, playing with the end of a long dark curl.

Making eye contact with each other, the girls instantly split up to gather the ingredients for their "Wakeup Call."

Juliet came back with a life sized male model dummy (complete with thick blonde hair) they used to test traps, some clothes and underwear leftover from various victims and an empty bottle of vodka. Gen returned with some burnt out candles, a pack of condoms and a bottle of chocolate sauce.

They had to forcibly hold back the cackles as they spread the clothes around the small, dimly lit room, placed the vodka bottle and chocolate sauce within arms reach of Hoffman, smeared chocolate sauce lightly around his mouth and on his bare back, put the dummy in bed next to him under the covers and stuck the candles at strategic points around the room.

The final move was to rip open the condoms and scatter them everywhere by the handful, pull up a chair each and watch the chaos ensue.

Clearing their throats loudly and in sync, the young women began their conversation at double the normal volume.

"So Gen! Who would've thought, Mark is bent, aye?" Juliet semi-shouted.

"Amazing! He seemed so straight. But then again, I guess vodka shots will do that to you!"

There was a double smirk of satisfaction as Hoffman twitched in his bed.

"God, I've never seen two men kiss so hard in my _life!_"

"It was so intense! Imagine what the sex must've been like!"

_Very _slowly,he turned and faced the girls, his look of disbelief priceless and smeared with chocolate sauce.

From outside, John heard the terrified bellow of Hoffman and rolled his eyes.

Those two did know how to put on a good scene.

"How did I… What di… I… And the… Chocolate sauce?! _Candles?!" _

He gathered the sheets against his body and seemed to honestly be tearing up when he saw the white rubber limb sticking out.

He turned to them, his disbelief melting into rage.

The girls dropped their grins and recognized their cues to run.

Sprinting down the hall, Juliet turned and grinned at her tall, half-naked pursuer.

"Hurry up and pack, would you! We leave in five!" she shouted before leaping out the window and continuing her escape.

***

In the dull reflection of the large windows of Gideon Meatpacking, the three girls could be seen making the final adjustments on their outfits.

Amanda was, as always, adding more eyeliner and running her thin fingers through her dark fringe.

Gen was turning this way and that, adjusting her black leather pants to best suit her butt.

And Juliet was tying the laces on her big black combat boots and adjusting her boobs in her black bustier top at the same time.

Hoffman and John simply stared at them with widened eyes.

"Why do they… what are they doing?"

"Don't try to understand it," John whispered. "Take it from an ex-married man. We will never understand why they do this. Ever. Cherish the simplicity of being male, Mark."

"You've obviously never woken up thinking you were gay."

"The 70s were a confusing time for everyone, Mark."

"…What?"

"Nothing," John said sharply, walking quickly back to the car.

Hoffman, feeling thoroughly violated and wanting neither to join John in the car nor watch the girls primp and preen any longer, faked the need for a bathroom trip.

He announced his leave to no one in particular and toddled away from the scene with haste.

Upon returning to the car he was greeted with yet another disturbing scene.

The two front seats were filled with John and Amanda, so the only seats left were with…

"Join us!" Gen said in a deep and terrifying horror movie voice from the back seat.

Sure, the girls were geniuses when it came to devising traps and the like but _Dear God _did they annoy the crap out of him at times.

They beckoned for him to sit on the far left, meaning he was directly adjacent to Juliet and… in the sun for most of the trip.

Great.

He clambered in and and slammed the door shut, regretting his decision to come along more every second.

Now, Gen and Jules weren't big girls. On the contrary they were quite short and not big in build, but they had an amazing talent for taking up as much room as possible.

Especially Juliet.

Not five minutes into the trip, she had kicked off her boots, put her head in Gen's lap, her arm in the arm rest for the front seats and one of her legs thrown over Hoffman's body. Her cream coloured calf kept smacking him in the forehead whenever John braked suddenly which was quite often.

Driving, it seemed, was not his strong point. He took turns too wide, prompting lewd gestures from other drivers, braked like an epileptic five-year-old and worst of all, had accidentally set the radio channel to 92.3.

The Bible channel.

"Jesus is the food on your table. Jesus is the money in your wallet. Jesus is the fuel in your tank. Jesus is the bullet in your gun. Jesus is the water in your well…"

On and _on_ it went, and suddenly the two girls and Hoffman had a common enemy.

Hoffman, feigning annoyance at the girls, rattled around in the bags while secretly looking for a mixed CD.

Once he had the shiny, circular audio lifeboat, Gen shouted, lurched forward and pointed to the left.

While Amanda and John snapped their heads to the side, Jules slipped underneath Gen and slipped the CD into the player and mashed "Play".

It's My Life; Bon Jovi replaced the redneck monotone and the three of them settled back, satisfied with their work.

Sharing a secret hi-five with them he thought that perhaps this trip wouldn't be too bad after all.

How wrong he was.

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**Definitely more to come, but don't expect HUGE chapters. I had to break it down into chapters from one whole big big of text originally so... *sticks out tongue* Reviews much appreciated!! x]**


	2. Bunking Up

**Disclaimer: The Saw franchise does NOT belong to me, neither do any of its affiliates or characters, no matter how much I wish they did. **

**This was NOT written by me. I claim to be the fountain-head of the idea, but this is written by my best friend, who doesn't have an account on here. **

**Thanks to SawManiac211 for being the first reviewer!**

* * *

**_Quote of the Day:_**

**_"Why isn't anyone 5'12?"_**

* * *

"No effing way."

"No."

"No way, you could not pay me enough."

"Please, no!"

"No, no, no, NO!"

Amanda, Hoffman, Gen and Jules all stood in front of John with crossed arms and similar "Fuck off, did I ever" expressions.

"You will all have to double up on beds. I'm not a rich man and I've never much placed too much value on monetary wealth but… frankly I'm not paying for each of you to have a separate room. You will all sleep in the same room, I'll make sure too book one with two double beds."

"No," Amanda pleaded. "I don't want to share a room with them, I'll never get to use the bathroom and… what if Hoffman snores… and… I… No!"

Genevieve just raised an eyebrow at John and side stepped away from Hoffman.

"No way am I sleeping next to Shaft here. I don't want to wake up a human pancake."

"Are you calling me fat?" he roared.

"No, but here's how I see it. I'm five foot two and you're… what, six three?"

"Six flat."

"I'm not buying it, Jolly Green," Jules piped up. "Oh, and I'm not sleeping next to Gen either. The internal bleeding healed up just fine from last time, by the way."

"Count me out. I'm not sleeping in the same bed as Jules. She… wraps her legs around things in her sleep," Gen explained, looking uneasy.

"No freakin" way am I sleeping with that," Amanda snorted. She was a sucker for personal space.

"I'm not sleeping next to Amanda. She quotes screamo songs in her sleep. I'd rather not wake up to "My heart bleeds black as the night sky"," Hoffman said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll take my chances with the Ranga," Amanda insisted, poking her tongue out at Hoffman and taking Gen by the elbow, claiming her.

Hoffman and Juliet eyed each other warily. Hoffman broke the silence first.

"I bags the right side."

"Fine."

"Do you really wrap your le—"

"Shut up." Juliet smacked her bags down at the foot of the bed and sprawled over the entire bed.

This was going to be a very long night.

***

This was it, the time for fortitude and strength was at hand.

It was time to bunk up.

Gen emerged from the bathroom in black silk pants and a red singlet. She nervously eyed the scene before her.

Amanda was curled against the head of the bed reading a magazine and tapping her fingers on her knee in a rapid rhythm. She was wearing a Linkin Park T-shirt and shorts.

Jules had adopted an awkward looking butt-up position on the floor in front of the T.V. She was clad in a clingy black singlet and red PJ pants that appeared to be brutally ripped around the bottom so they closer resembled shorts with strips of fabric hanging off them.

She couldn't see Hoffman anywhere but didn't particularly care, so she plopped down next to Juliet and stared at her.

She was so… twisted. Her spine did almost a total 180, with her butt facing the ceiling and her face twisted towards the T.V. Her longish arms were flipped so that one was supporting her head and the other was splayed out towards the remote.

Her legs were a jumbled mess that closely resembled a human pretzel.

"You freak," Gen bluntly regarded, her comment almost cut off by someone entering the room.

Jules untwisted herself and resumed a normal cross-legged position in a matter of seconds only to realize it was Hoffman.

His pyjamas seemed to consist of long navy blue drawstring pants and a black T-shirt. Genevieve's keen hazel eyes flickered back and forth between her close friends own pointed brown eyes and Hoffman's back as he rifled through his bag. There seemed to be a direct line between the two. Jules gaze had drifted from the T.V. to Hoffman's back and it hadn't moved for about 30 seconds.

"She's checking him out!"Gen thought as a smile spread across her face.

"Shall I get a camera?" she whispered prodding her friend in the tummy with a black fingernail.

Juliet snapped out of her Hoffman-reverie and shivered violently for a second.

"Pffht, don't know what you're on about," she retorted, going back to watching The Drew Carey Show with a rose tint to her cheeks.

'He damn fine!'_ s_he thought as she giggled along with the laugh track. 'Too bad he's a pain in my largish, but not too large, pert posterior. Dolt.'

Twenty or so minutes later, Amanda was unconscious on her side of the bed, Gen was not far behind and Jules was still sitting completely still in front the television.

"I get it now. You're actually a vampire who doesn't sleep!" Hoffman yawned while flipping back the sheets on his bed. "Shit, it's hot in here. John is too tight to pay for A/C in here. Do you know he has a hot tub and reverse cycle in his _suite_?"

Juliet's head snapped towards him at the mention of this.

"That bitch!" she snarled. She then hugged her legs tighter to her chest and focused her attentions back to the T.V.

Half an hour later, the tacky Garfield alarm clock read 01:03.

Hoffman groaned quietly and sat up.

"Can you turn it down? Some of us actually require sleep as opposed to just coffee to live," he mumbled, rubbing his big, light eyes sleepily.

Yawning loudly in defeat, Juliet flicked the screen off and crawled from the end of the bed until she was lying face down in the pillows. After making some discontented mewls she kicked until the sheets were all bunched at the end of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Hoffman said into his pillow.

"Getting comfy," she replied.

He whacked her in the small of her back with a spare pillow.

"AH! What would you wanna do that for?!" she yelped, moving to smother him with her own pillow.

"Guh! Get off me, you psychotic midget!"

"Then don't assault me, Shrek!" she grunted, relenting and falling over to her side of the bed.

After a few minutes Hoffman exhaled loudly and turned over, facing the wall away from Juliet.

"Sorry for calling you a psychotic midget. You're a comparatively sane midget ninety percent of the time," he said quietly.

His only response for a few minutes was the sound of her turning over and facing away from him to a chorus of Amanda getting beaten to a pulp by Genevieve's unconscious kung fu.

He was about to drift off when he heard her sigh loudly.

"Sorry for calling you Shrek," she muttered. "I didn't mean to insult Dream Works Animations like that."

***

John sipped his strong, bitter coffee as he padded down the hallway softly with his usual noiseless, gliding walk. He pulled out the secondary key for the room the others were staying in. As he swung open the faded grey door, he surveyed a scene of utter chaos. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the girls had various toiletries and makeup packs on the one available surface in the room and Hoffman had made short work of emptying his clothes all over the floor on his side of the bed.

"Clutter is _distasteful,_" he muttered.

"…To me…" he heard Amanda mumble in her sleep. Even when she was unconscious, they were still on the same insane, slightly delusional wavelength.

Looking over at the beds raised a small smile on his pale face.

Amanda was lying on the floor looking very bruised but morbidly at peace while her bunkmate was still twisting and turning on the bed making various noises including "mmnuh" and "eeeeingh". He watched in morbid fascination as she moved her curved torso like an expert belly dancer and made a mental note that first thing in the morning, the redhead was a great deal more flexible.

Looking over to the Juliet-Mark bed, his white eyebrows did a double take.

True to the rumours that Genevieve had spread, Juliet did indeed appear to feel the need to wrap her longish legs around things in her sleep.

Said "thing" happened to be Hoffman. In his sleep, one hand was wrapped around her thigh; somewhat holding it to him and the other was on her butt cheek.

Holding in an undignified chuckle, he pulled the couch around and reclined on it so that he had prime position for watching his apprentices wake up.

_Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. _Amanda chanted in her head as she attempted to roll over. Sitting up slowly and painfully, she looked and Genevieve. She was pummeling a pillow unconsciously.

"What the… And I thought _I_ had issues!" she winced, examining the plentiful bruises on her ribs.

Hoffman smiled in his sleep.

He was so comfortable and his face was nestled in something that smelt really nice.

He traced the outline of what he was holding with his large hands,

Out at the top, in at the middle, out again at the bottom. And legs just how he liked them, longish, strong and soft. And better yet, they were wrapped around his waist.

_Wait a minute… If I'm conscious and still holding someone then… who am I…? _His eyes snapped open and his body immediately tensed. _Uh oh._

Juliet pulled her legs in slightly tighter.

_Mmm… that feels nice. _She mused as something stroked her thigh. She felt someone's breath on her forehead and her heart missed a beat.

"Hoffman, are you…" she whispered, hardly believing it herself. She looked up and found her self staring into a pair of aqua coloured eyes that looked as confused and scared as she felt.

"WHAAAAAAA!" she shouted, unwrapping her legs and barrel rolling off the bed, pushing him off the other side in the process.

Her landing pad happened to be Amanda. Both of them were in massive amounts of pain because of this, Amanda from being squashed and Jules from landing on Amanda's elbow.

"Ow!" Amanda moaned.

"Motherfucker!" screamed Jules.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Hoffman shouted as he stood up.

"Who wrote Bullet for My Valentine lyrics on my face while I was sleeping!!" Genevieve screeched, examining her face with a look of shocked disbelief. It appeared she had padded to the mirror unnoticed in the middle of everything else happening.

John was holding back a winner smirk when he stood, sipped his coffee for effect and then let out one of those "Everyone, please look at me I have something profound and pompous to say" sighs.

"Everyone, we disembark in one hour exactly. Be there or live in no-star motel hell for the rest of your days."

Jules made brief eye contact with both Gen and Amanda. There seemed to be a palpable tension in the air as a combined chorus of "I bags first go in the bathroom!" was yelled at various volumes.

Hoffman shook his head and started gathering up his clothing.

After all, things couldn't possibly get worse, could they?

* * *

**Oh, if he only KNEW! x] Next chapter up soon. REVIEW!**


	3. A Familiar Face and Scrawny Bugs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Saw, blah, blah, blah. The characters are not mine, blah, blah, blah. Except Gen and Jules! And Timothy. The new guy...*evil grin***

**Thanks to MicroChips for being the second reviewer! Chloe (the writer) says thanks! x] **

* * *

**_Quote of the Day:_**

**_"If you're from Africa, why're you white?"_**

* * *

"Coffee?"

Peter Strahm looked up from his magazine and shook his head. The pretty waitress smiled at him and walked off.

It was a week ago that he had decided to go on a solitary road trip, to see the world by himself. His grueling, monotonous separation from his boring, shapeless, unkempt dowdy excuse for a wife was a bit too much so he decided to put the proceedings on hold and get away.

Now, seven days later, he was sitting in a dingy diner on the side of a desert highway.

He was here to fill up his car with gas, buy a magazine and figure out his next move. He had done the first two but was having trouble working out where to go next. The former FBI agent heard the bell above the door tinkle as people entered and exited the diner, but this time the bell seemed a little louder.

He looked down at his reflective aviators, and in the frames he saw a distorted image of three women and two men walk in.

He whipped around to face them, his light eyes widening in shock.

"You five again…" he muttered to himself, choking on a piece of orange muffin.

His loud coughs must have attracted the five-some because in about two seconds flat they were all bundled into his booth.

"Sup, Straaaaaaahm?" chorused Juliet and Genevieve. They had an annoying habit of over extending the "a" sound in his name.

He cleared his throat and nodded at the two males.

"Hoffman. Kramer."

"Strahm," Hoffman mumbled, looking pointedly away.

"Strahm," John muttered, nodding at the other man.

"Straaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahm!" Gen mocked in a singsong voice.

He fought the urge to throw muffin at the redhead.

"What brings you out here then?" Hoffman enquired, picking at a muffin he had stolen from the plate.

"Escaping from "all that"," he explained dryly.

"'All that' being that _man _that you married?" Genevieve inquired, her small hand creeping toward the last muffin.

Taking a hold of the muffin, Strahm smirked at her.

"Possibly. Did you want this?"

"Um…duh?"

Strahm poked out his tongue, and in a very childish move, licked the top of the muffin and held it out to her.

"You still want it?"

Genevieve froze and glared at him.

"You twat! Let's see how you like it!" she reached for the coffee cup that was sitting on the table and ran her tongue around the edge, licking it excessively.

The rest of them watched in mute disbelief.

Strahm tried unsuccessfully to contain his smirk.

"You know," he began, holding back a laugh, "that was sitting there when I got here."

Genevieve halted her actions immediately. The colour drained from her face and she looked down at the cup, then back up to Strahm. She gagged and began to spit at the table, wiping her tongue with her hands.

Juliet screamed with laughter. Hoffman buried his face in his hands, giggling in a way that was somewhat undignified for a man of his stature. Amanda leant on Jules for support. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaking eyeliner down her face.

John simply stared at Strahm intensely before a slow smirk spread across his face.

"Revenge like that is so… tasteful. To me."

***

"I'm telling you now; it's quicker to get to the motel this way."

"No, that's a back road. The limit is 70. Go the highway."

"There are no police on freaking back roads!"

"Whatever Gen."

"Hate your face, Jules."

The rest of the group watched this conversation like a tennis match, all sets of eyes travelling back and forth until suddenly Strahm piped up.

"Who is… Who is that boy waving at you, girls?"

Genevieve and Juliet looked towards the small blonde boy waving frantically at them.

"Oh…"

"Snap…"

The name of that small blonde boy was Timothy Rice. Timothy was always "that boy" in high school. He was always drifting from group to group, trying to make friends but his insincere pseudo political speeches and sincere idiocy had made him hard to like.

Juliet had tried hard, so very hard, to be nice to him. But she never expected to see him after graduation, especially not out here.

Clenching her jaw into a smile, Juliet waved back stiffly and gripped Genevieve's hand.

"What the fuck do we do?" she mumbled through her teeth.

"Smile and wave, Jules. Smile, wave and hope he has better things to do than… Aw hell no, is he coming over here?"

"Fuck!"

"Crap!"

"Shit!"

"Bloody hell!"

"Motherfucker!"

Taking interest in this swear-fest, Hoffman wandered over to his two companions.

"What exactly is the cause for this, uh, arrant display of language?" he whispered, eyeing the approaching boy.

"We know him…" Gen began.

"From… high school," Jules finished. She took his hand and dug her long nails into it. "Help… us… or I will make this trip a living hell for you, the likes of which you _cannot_ imagine. I will put hair removal cream in your shampoo, I will swap your clothes with John's, and I will give your shit away to homeless people. So help me, I will explain to you, in detail, _every little thing_ about the menstrual cycle _every_ night unless you _**do something!"** _

Understanding the serious nature of this threat, Hoffman leapt valiantly into action.

He ran over to Strahm, plucked his sunglasses from his face, gave a quick "I'll explain later" gesture, donned the glasses, ran back and slung his arm around Jules shoulder.

Timothy looked confused as he stared back and forth between Gen, Jules and Hoffman.

"Hey Geni, Jules…" Timothy trailed off. Gen twitched in anger at the use of her much-hated pet name that Timothy insisted on using. Hoffman bit his lip to prevent it from twitching into a smile.

This kid had the voice of a nine year old and by the looks of it, the face of one too.

The girls muttered a greeting and Jules cleared her throat.

"So," Timothy began. "Who's this then?"

Juliet froze up for a half a second before readjusting herself and wrapping an arm around Hoffman.

"This is Snake. He's my _boyfriend." _She avoided looking at Gen. They both knew that older, good-looking men really pissed Timothy off.

Timothy's eyes darted back and forth at a comically rapid pace for about thirty seconds or so.

"So…" Gen began. "What brings you out… here?"

"Oh, just taking a trip. But apparently this is as far as metropolitan bus routes go, so I either have to walk or go back."

'This kid is… retarded…'Hoffman thought. He towered over Timothy comically, and compared to his broad shouldered, statuesque build, Timothy looked… scrawny. Tiny. Bug like, even.

"So, _Snake_," Timothy piped up, jutting out his weedy chin. "What brings you out here?"

Jules dug her nails into Hoffman once more, but this time it was his sides that suffered.

"I…uh…" Hoffman cleared his throat and put on a "mean" look. "Had to blow town, ya know how it is… punk? Gotta lay low and… let all of it blow over. So I took Jules and told her we'd go travellin'. Just us and the open road…" he looked back at the rest of the crew quickly and then back at Timothy, "… and four or so friends..."

Jules pinched harder.

"And my gun!" he exclaimed, pulling the sleek black machine out of its holster. "Me and my gun, partners for life…uh…yeah…" Hoffman cleared his throat and looked down at Juliet. She nodded at him in approval. Timothy looked thoroughly disturbed and violently scared.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, Strahm wandered over and tapped Gen on the shoulder.

"Who's the kid?" he enquired, nodding at Timothy and slipping on a black leather jacket.

Genevieve's lips parted slightly at the sight of Strahm in a leather jacket, but nonetheless kept her cool.

"I'm nineteen and a half, thanks," Timothy muttered, obviously offended.

"Hm…" Strahm grunted, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Anyway," Timothy continued totally oblivious to everyone staring at him like he was a parasite, "could I hitch a ride with you guys?"

"Don't leave me alone with him," Gen whispered, clutching at Strahm.

"Of course!" Jules shouted with fake enthusiasm, "In fact, you get to ride with Gen!"

Gen looked sideways at her supposed best friend.

"I fucking hate you."

Jules and Hoffman walked away, laughing quietly. As Timothy ran over to the rest of the group and introduced himself loudly, eliciting many confused and possibly homicidal expressions, Strahm laughed at Genevieve.

"Ahhh… tough luck, getting stuck with Mr. Midget ADHD," he sighed in faux commiseration.

"Don't laugh," Gen began, a devious smile spreading across her lips. "Because me and Tim are going to have a blast… keeping you company while _you're _driving!" She patted him on the arm and walked away. He stared after her.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

***

"I don't like Snake." Timothy announced within five seconds of pulling onto the road.

Genevieve was sitting in the front seat. She had kicked off her shoes and was resting her forehead against her knees.

The engine of Strahm's "67 Chevy Impala purred beneath her as he rapidly accelerated to catch up to the other car. They had left late because Timothy insisted on getting his own bottle of water. Timothy didn't drink un-bottled water unless he was at his mother's house, apparently.

Strahm was speechless in disbelief at the boy.

"He's shifty looking," Tim continued on, unprompted.

"Oh Tim, why, _why?!" _Genevieve cried into her knees.

Unaffected by her outburst, Tim craned forwards so his head was between Strahm and Gen's seats.

"He carries a gun, his name is Snake and… how old is he anyway?"

"I don't know, Tim," Gen said, searching for ways to silence him. "Thirty or forty something?"

"Exactly!" He exclaimed as though he had made an epic point. "Julie's only twenty, she should be careful. I always told her that she should be cautious. She's too fiery. Too opinionated. Just too out there for her own good. Personally I think that if she knows what's good for her she'll break up with him. I mean, come on! How far can it really go? He'll be dead before she's his age! I don't think she's thinking clearly…" He sat back in his seat and continued talking at a rapid pace. Strahm gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Come here," he whispered to Genevieve. She craned closer to him so that their faces were almost touching. He looked sideways at her. "If he doesn't shut up soon, I'm actually going to hit him. Make it stop, Gen. Do something, _anything!" _he whispered rapidly as Timothy went on and on, unaware of the events happening not one metre from him.

"What am I meant to do, beat him into submission?" she replied in a similar whisper.

Strahm's sideways look turned into a rather seductive sideways smirk.

"You can use your own discretion and I won't have seen a thing," he informed her.

She turned her head to the side and stared at Tim. He saw her close proximity to Strahm and opened his mouth in shock.

"Oh no! Not you too, Geni!" he cried out like a five year old who had lost a toy.

She collapsed back into her seat, her hand over her forehead.

"Lord, give me strength!" she whimpered.

He continued on his lecture, but now he had fuel for his argument.

"Is he always this bad?" Strahm said openly, now that he knew the boy was obviously impervious to everything around him while rambling.

"Worse," Genevieve informed him. "Much worse. You have no idea how bad he was, especially around Jules. He was kind of clingy and… Oh, let's not even go there."

From her vantage point, Gen could quite literally stare at Strahm. Even though "Snake" still had his sunglasses, he still looked, well…hot.

And, from what she could gather while she leant across to him, he smelt _really _good too.

Kind of musky, with an oaky finish.

Like a…lawyer cowboy.

"So, how long do you reckon you're going to stay with us?" Gen inquired, trying to perve on him through his jacket.

"Until I get bored. But knowing you, that won't happen too soon."

"Oh, you can be sure of that…" she muttered, imagining how it would feel to rip the jacket (and the rest of his clothing) off of him.

"Hm?" he said, turning his eyes to her.

"Uh… I… nothing."

"Gen!" Timothy shouted. "Stop staring at him like that!"

Gen faltered and looked back at Timothy with a violent glint in her eye.

"What… did you just say, Tim?" she said slowly, her hands balling into fists.

"You keep looking him up and down like you want to rape him! It's disgusting and it's making me uncomfortable. God Gen, why him?! He's like a hundred years old!"

Genevieve looked in wide-eyed shock at Strahm as he stared at her for a second. Timothy went back to rambling with renewed fervor. Strahm pushed a few buttons on the CD player and turned up the volume dial to full. Loud rock guitar filled the car, hindering Timothy's voice.

"Thank you!" Genevieve mouthed to Strahm.

"Any time," he mouthed back, winking at her.

_Oh yeah. _She thought, tapping her knee in time to the drums. _This is going to be fun._

* * *

**Another chapter and a bunch more to come! Reviews much appreciated! Oh, and cookies to whoever can tell me where the 'Lawyer-Cowboy' quote is from. **


	4. I Wanna Play A Game

**A/N: Thanks to all who favoured and reviewed. You know who you are and we love you for it!! Nearly end of semester! YAYYYY!!! **

* * *

**_Quote of the Day:_**

**_"I don't know what makes you tick...but I hope it's a time bomb."_**

* * *

"Is he… is he still staring at me?" Hoffman whispered to Jules as he glanced over his shoulder quickly.

Timothy's small blue eyes were narrowed at "Snake" with weak anger. At least it looked like anger. With Tim it was hard to tell.

"Yup. And he's balling his little hands into fists every few seconds, too!" she breathed into his ear as she cast a view at Tim.

They stood outside the wide, two-storey hotel while Amanda pulled bags out of the boot of the car. The sun was beginning to set and the two groups had reunited at a semi famous themed hotel that was situated in what could only be described as a desolate slice of American prairie.

The large building was obviously Gothic in terms of architecture, with large white stone arches that were a dusty peach in the fading sun.

John emerged from the car and stood still until all six pairs of eyes (including Timothy's) were on him, and everyone was silent.

"You will all be sharing rooms again," he began, coupled with a groan of dissatisfaction from everyone. "With Timothy and Peter as our newest additions this means you will all need to choose one other person to share a room with. Think carefully though, as we will be staying here for a week. Make your choice." At the conclusion of this, he disappeared swiftly into the large doors of the hotel, muttering something about the cowboy themed room.

The six of them all eyed each other warily. Timothy was slowly sidling up to the girls, his eyes never leaving "Snake's" face.

Juliet, sensing danger, grabbed Hoffman's hand and dug her nails in with extreme force, eliciting a whimper from him.

Hoffman bit his lip and looked down at the scarily strong brunette. She nodded slowly up at him and released his hand.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in.

"We'll bunk together…babe," he growled, leering at Timothy through Strahm's sunglasses.

Jules breathed a sigh of relief and went off to get her bags, poking her tongue out at Gen, who Tim was eyeing suspiciously.

_Oh hell to the no! _Genevieve thought while frantically formulating ideas for her escape. These included killing Tim with Strahm's pen and something to do with the hair lackey around her wrist.

Observing the small, fidgeting, redheaded woman in front of him with a look of great entertainment, Strahm cleared his throat and slowly sidled up to her.

Tim had his mouth open to talk when Strahm cut him off.

"Hey baby, mind taking my bag up to the room?" he said, staring down at Tim who had begun shaking and turning a deep red.

"…What?" Gen whispered up at him.

"Just keeping up appearances…or do you _want_ to share a room with the Wonder Bread kid?"

"Ah. Good point!" she looked back to Timothy who was looking between Gen and Jules with a mix of rage and hopelessness.

As the two "couples" peeled off, collected their luggage and moved inside the hotel, Amanda and Timothy were left staring at each other.

"If you talk to me at all," she began her dark eyes unblinking as they stared at him, "I will actually kill you. Slowly and painfully, and then I'll make it look like an accident."

Timothy backed away, grabbed his dorky mustard yellow backpack and ran inside, leaving a grinning Amanda outside to lock the car.

***

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Genevieve shouted as she walked into the high school themed hotel room.

There were lockers instead of a cupboard, a chalkboard feature wall and a queen-sized bed shaped like a huge desk, complete with pencil and notepad pillows.

Strahm ran his hand over his hair and sat on the bed.

"Well… it was either this or the Hannah Montana room," he explained, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Upon hearing this, Genevieve dropped her bags, bolted over to him and hugged him.

"Thank you!" she screamed, squeezing him. She felt Strahm tense up and suddenly realized she was pressing her sizable breasts against him.

In an effort to regain her dignity, she flopped onto the bed besides him in a casual manner. She gave a nervous laugh and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

_I really want to screw him now… _she thought, rolling over and facing away from him.

Strahm watched her closely for about ten seconds before he looked away, pretending to study the times tables chart on the wall with great interest.

_I want to fuck her now..._he thought as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Down the hall in room 206, Juliet was surveying hers and Hoffman's room with a considerable amount of joy.

"I can't believe they have a Witch Queen themed room. Intense…" she remarked, stroking her fingers over the delicate black railing at the head of the bed. She was on all fours, her backside to Hoffman.

"Yeah, great," he mumbled, turning around. He stopped and stared at her, mainly focusing on her butt.

His light eyes widened as he stared for longer, he became transfixed by her curved backside. She was forever complaining about how it looked big in clothing but was secretly proud of its size. He had the sudden urge to squeeze it, but instead he jammed his hands in his pockets.

She settled back on her knees and turned to him.

As soon as her big dark eyes met his, she frowned.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, pulling herself into a cross-legged position further down the bed, nearer to where he stood.

He raised an eyebrow at her and swiftly turned around to continue rifling around in his bag.

"Uh… yeah, I'm good," he coughed, momentarily face-palming himself.

Juliet shrugged and sprawled on the bed, adjusting herself into the 'Fat-Man-Starfish' position.

Her arms and legs were spread out with such languor, her chest softly moving up and down with her quiet breaths. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lips softly. Hoffman was frozen on the spot, staring at her.

_Oh God. Does she have to lie like that, right there? _He mused as her small foot tapped the black metal bedpost to a silent beat.

"I have to go… uhm… I need to…" he began, looking from side to side. Juliet sat up and eyed him. She was taking advantage of his cluelessness to get an eyeful of him. Beneath the contempt and argumentative relationship she had with him, she found him most annoyingly attractive.

"…I have to shampoo my llama," he finally finished, exiting from the room with comical speed.

_How I want him..._she mused, rolling over to trace the delicate black lace on the bed sheets.

***

"Timothy, stop."

"No."

"Timothy, it's rude to stare."

"No."

"Timothy, mind your own business."

"No!"

"Timothy, do as I say or I will _hurt_ you."

"…Fine."

Genevieve sat back in her seat at the large round dinner table, giving Juliet a small thumbs up.

Earlier, John had summoned then all together and lectured them about how, "A family who eats together stays together."

He forgot to mention that "the family" consisted mainly of people who either hated each other or wanted to fuck each other. That fact might have ruined the point of his speech.

So now, here they were, gathered in the grand dining hall. John sat in his chair, totally silent and unmoving.

Amanda was staring wide eyed at her water glass, rocking backwards and forwards, having spent the evening with Tim in their Hanna Montana themed room. Strahm and Hoffman were seated next to each other and between Jules and Gen, engaged in some form of argument over who got the saltshaker first. Gen had the unfortunate privilege of being placed next to Timothy, who would not shut up or stop staring at Hoffman, who he still believed was called "Snake".

Gen stabbed at her chicken maliciously with her fork, her annoyance and frustration building into rage. Finally, just as Hoffman had seized the saltshaker and was attempting to assault Strahm with it, she stood up and slammed her fork down.

All eyes turned to her as she breathed heavily, gritting her teeth.

"Waiter!" She shouted, smoothing down her filmy black blouse. "Bring me a bottle of your strongest liquor… _Now!_"

She returned to sitting position, raising an eyebrow at Strahm, who had turned to stare at her, his lips slightly parted.

The waiter placed a bottle of absinthe in front of John, who looked up, his eyes lighting with interest in the green liquid in front of him.

"Everyone, I want to play a game," he addressed the group.

They all looked at him, hearts pounding, fear in their eyes, minus Timothy, who was humming and staring into space.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Amanda whispered, looking paler than usual.

"A game, you say?" Genevieve muttered, gulping loudly.

"Yes. I want to play a game…" he said quietly, standing and filling Genevieve's glass with absinthe. "A game of "I Never"."

A collective sigh of relief washed over the group until they realized the possible ramifications.

Timothy sat blithely unaware of the palpable tension, tugging on Gen's arm like a child.

"Gen, Gen, Gen, Gen, Gen, what's I Never?" he inquired, tugging her sleeve once for each time he said her name.

Gen opened her mouth to bite his face off when John sat down, having filled everyone's glass.

""I Never" is a drinking game," he filled his own glass in the process of talking. "We go in turns, stating something like "I've never watched porn". If anyone in the circle has done the action in the statement, they must take a sip of absinthe. The first one to empty their glass wins."

"Oh great!" Amanda muttered sarcastically.

"I'll go first," Gen declared, twirling a curl between two fingers. "I've never… gone to a gay bar," she sipped at her own drink, looking around the circle.

She almost choked as Hoffman took a quick drink from his glass.

"What?!" Amanda cried out.

"Well…" he began as he fidgeted with his glass, "…they have good music."

"I'm suuure!" Amanda teased.

"They do!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Fucking…my turn!" he announced, searching for something to say. "I've never… had to run down the road naked."

For a second, no one moved until Juliet raised the glass to her lips and sipped, looking from side to side guiltily.

"… Y-you're joking," Hoffman stuttered, his eyes widening at her.

She jabbed him in the side to shut him up.

"I don't get it, is this… _alcohol?!_" Timothy spat, placing emphasis on the word alcohol.

Everyone turned and stared at him, only relenting when he shrank back into his seat.

"My go," Jules said, leaning forwards. "I've never woken up thinking I was gay." She looked up at Mark with a devious grin on her face. He slowly, _slowly, _took a drink of absinthe. Just as he put his glass down, two others were lifted from the table.

"Geni?! You're a lesbian too?!" Timothy cried out, slamming his face down on the table.

"What the fu—John?!" Amanda exclaimed, watching as her mentor closed his eyes and took a long sip of alcohol.

"I have an excuse, you see," he sighed, opening his eyes. "The 70's were a time of mass anarchy, panic and confusion. The lines of gender were blurred to the point that almost any one wa—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Jules cut him off. "Basically, Ol' Johnny here was bi-curious."

"No, I was confused."

"Yeah, bi-curious."

"Confused."

"Would you kiss Hoffman?"

"No."

"Would you kiss Strahm?"

"Maybe… anyway. What's Genevieve's excuse?"

Everyone stared at Genevieve, who was in the process of making herself look as small as possible.

"Oh, hi guys! Me? Oh… well… uhm… see…" she sighed and sat up straight. "College was a pretty wild time for me. See, I only fully remember about… two or three weeks of it. The rest I spent sleeping, partying, drunk or all three. So I'm not sure who or what I made out with in that time."

"How did you know you weren't… violated during that time?" Hoffman inquired, staring at her.

"Ah… my foolproof evidence based system," she sighed, sitting back in her chair. "See, I always woke up with my pants on. Brilliantly simple, is it not?"

"Geni…why?" Timothy whimpered, his chin wobbling.

"Oh shut up and drink something," she snapped, pushing his glass towards him.


	5. Club Nowhere'sVille

**A/N: Forgive me all of you wonderful reviewers for the long delay. The writer has been somewhat out of commission for a while, but things should be getting back on track very soon. Hope you like the chapter and a special thanks to **TheNextAmandaYoung, xXErineilXx, MarkHoffman, ., promghost07 and SawManiac211 **for reviewing!! I love you guys! ^.^**

**The song lyrics used in this chapter are from Muse's "Feeling Good" and She Wants Revenge's "Tear You Apart"**

**Disclaimer: The Saw franchise does NOT belong to me, neither do any of its affiliates or characters.**

**This was NOT written by me. I claim to be the fountain-head of the idea, but this is written by my best friend, who doesn't have an account on here.**

* * *

**_Quote of the Day: _**

**_"Tom Cruise: Twelve foot of crazy in a four foot man!"_**

* * *

"Timothy! Not the Thomas the Tank engine shirt! Please!" Juliet cried out, slapping her hand to her forehead.

They had all just spilled out of the car in front of Nexus, the most happening place in NoWhere"sville, USA. The blue neon lighting only served to highlight the looks of sheer horror on everyone's faces as Tim unzipped his hoodie, revealing the monstrosity beneath.

Every one else, in contrast to this, was dressed with a definite amount of nightclub class slickness.

John, looking as mysterious as ever, was wearing a floor length black trench coat. He looked every bit as imposing as a serial killer should, quiet and decorous.

Amanda had changed from her usual black-pants-and-top combo into a knee length gunmetal grey silk dress with oversized safety pins at the straps. She had a waifish charm to her that set the dress off to its full potential.

Strahm had remained more or less unchanged, in a form fitting black T-shirt, jeans and his leather jacket.

Hoffman (Still in Snake mode, not having relented Strahm's glasses yet) was in a dark blue button down shirt and black dress pants. He had added Doc Martens to this outfit on Juliet's request. She had stated that "it would scare the living Jesus out of Tim", so he was only too happy to comply.

Genevieve was looking particularly club-chic in a see through black blouse over a black lace bra, leather pants and high heels (elevating her to the height of 5"6).

Juliet had donned a _tight _black top under a high-waisted denim skirt coupled with black high-heeled boots.

Compared to these ensembles, Tim's T-shirt, beige khaki pants and tennis shoes were causing snide giggles and sniggers from everyone.

"Tim… why…?" Gen whimpered, her eyes widening in disgusted shock.

"I don't care what you think about m— Are you _LAUGHING AT ME?_" Tim screamed at Genevieve and Strahm.

"Not at all," Strahm sniggered into his fist, coughing a few times before regaining his composure.

"Good. Because I warn you, if you're making fun of me, I'll. I will. I. Uhm…" Tim trailed off, kicking at the ground with his unattractive shoes.

"You will annoy them to death, kind of like what you spent most of the afternoon trying to do to me?" Amanda remarked, rubbing her temples.

Timothy turned a weak shade of red and shoved his tiny hands into the pockets of his dorky pants.

"Everyone ready to go inside then?" John inquired, looking from person to person.

The group flocked into the dark building and towards the bar.

"Three Cosmos!" Juliet ordered, summoning the bartender.

"And two beers," Hoffman added, placing a twenty on the bar.

"A bottle of your very finest vodka, barkeep," John rasped over the pounding techno music. Everyone turned and looked at him, with simultaneous expressions of confusion. He shrugged it off, retrieved his drink and disappeared into the crowd leaving the flock to care for themselves.

"Shall we dance?" Juliet offered, looking at her two female companions.

"Sure, why not. Anything to get away from Tim. Anything. I mean it. If you want me to sell drugs in a back alley and get caught by John, I will face another life threatening trap at the gain of not having to deal with _that thing,_" Amanda answered, draining her drink and standing.

Genevieve looked from her friends to Strahm's denim clad butt.

"I'll uh… sit this one out, ladies. But have fun!" she chirped, motioning Hoffman and Strahm to a couch.

Amanda and Juliet shrugged at each other and moved to the dance floor. Amanda had a creepy-sexy way of dancing. She moved her thin body slowly to its own beat in a mesmerizing routine that caught the eyes of many people, men and women alike. Juliet had a natural rhythm that was somewhere between high-class escort and big black woman.

Together they created this Yin-Yang kind of contrast that gave them a high percentage of male attention.

From where she stood, Juliet could see where the others sat. Tim appeared to be still at the bar, lecturing the inattentive bartender on the evils of Nationalism.

Genevieve was wedged between Hoffman and Strahm. She appeared to be leaning over to say something to Hoffman, her face millimeters from his, his hand on her waist.

Juliet stopped dead when she saw this. She motioned for Amanda to continue on and marched over to the three of them.

"Genevieve!" she motioned for her friend over the music. Genevieve stood up and walked over, looking confused.

"What's all that about?"

"All "what" about?"

"Plastering yourself to Hoffman."

"…What?"

"You were all over him dude."

"So?"

"Uh, Why?"

"You got a problem with it, dude?"

"… Not at all," Juliet huffed, returning to the dance floor with a particularly devious kind of revenge in mind.

She began to sway slowly and seductively to the new song spilling from the wall mounted speakers.

After a few minutes, she made direct eye contact with Strahm and beckoned for him to come over with a single dainty finger.

She grinned slowly at him as he approached. As soon as he was there, she stood on tiptoe so her lips were level with his ear.

"Play along," she whispered, guiding his hands to her hips. He looked down at her, uncertain for a second or two, but catching on quickly and pulling her closer to him.

They swayed against each other in perfect time, Strahm occasionally running his hands slowly up and down her sides.

The final blow was when Juliet hooked the top of her fingers over the waistband of his pants and stared directly at her best friend.

Genevieve responded by giving her friend a withering smile and "accidentally" spilling some of her Cosmo into Hoffman's lap, giving him a faux apologetic look, batting her eyelashes and dabbing at his crotch with a napkin covered hand,

Hoffman looked confusedly at Juliet who scowled in the direction of Genevieve and pulled Strahm as close as possible, leaning up to him.

"Grab my butt," she growled. He stared down at her for a second, and then complied, cupping an individual cheek in either of his large hands.

"What are you doing?!" Hoffman demanded, grabbing Genevieve by the shoulders.

"Making my best friend… jealous?" she answered tentatively, retracting her hands from his lap. He gave her a confused look, coupled with a pity-pat on the shoulder.

Genevieve heaved a sigh, rose from her seat and plodded over to Juliet, grapping her friend's thin wrist and dragging her to a less noise polluted spot, leaving a very confused Strahm behind.

"I'm sorry I pawed Hoffman."

"I'm sorry I had upright sex with Strahm."

"_What?!_"

"I'm joking. I'm sorry for dirty dancing with Strahm. Now, if you want to go over there and fill my spot, I'd be more than happy to go and paw Hoffman's crotch in the meantime."

"Deal."

"I love you, babe."

"I love you too, hon."

And as simple as that, the girls parted ways with a simple, inconspicuous slap on the butt.

Genevieve slipped up against Strahm, he smirked down at her, pulled her in close and they commenced dirty dancing with each other.

Juliet slinked over to Hoffman and sat next to him, sharing his beer and using him as a leg rest.

Eventually, the group reunited and all sat bundled together on the couch. Juliet sat on Hoffman's lap, taking advantage of the situation to feel up as much of him as possible. It appeared that he was subtly doing the same.

Genevieve was straddling Strahm, and they appeared to be whispering things to each other. Juliet knew they must be of a heavy sexual content because Genevieve, with her mind of pure smut, was blushing.

Amanda sprawled on the rest of the couch, leaving Timothy to sit on the floor, grumpy at the bartender who hadn't listened to his drabble.

The music changed to some cheesy 70"s beat and the entire group watched in sheer horror as three things happened.

Firstly, John had reappeared and shed his cloak revealing the worst and most severe 70"s attire any of them had ever seen. His bell-bottom jeans went out for at least a metre and his shirt was so bright in the flickering lights it made their eyes hurt.

Second, he began to move his arms and legs sporadically in what must have been the hottest dance of the 70"s but is today known as a "seizure".

Thirdly… everyone on the dance floor joined in.

Behind him, John had an army of 100+ people doing the same embarrassing dance as him.

"Oh hell to the no!" Juliet screamed, shielding her eyes.

"We are out of here!" Genevieve added, grabbing her best friend by the wrist.

The rest of the followed swiftly, all the way to the car where they sat in silent denial of what had just happened until John emerged and unlocked the car.

He was wearing his black cloak again, and minus a slight flush to his cheeks, he looked as psychotically serene as ever. He stared at each of them before getting into the car and slamming the door.

"Everyone cool with pretending that never happened?" Amanda mumbled, biting at a nail.

The chorus of disturbed looks and slight nods was all the confirmation she needed.

***

"You know, I always did have a desk fetish," Gen remarked as Strahm ripped off her blouse, pulled her pants off and fell onto the bed with her. Strahm grunted sexually in response, assisting her with the removal of his shirt and pants, which were, unceremoniously, flung the floor.

Down the hall in their softly lit room, Hoffman and Juliet were engaged in a similar (albeit not _quite _as aggressive) activity.

He picked her up with ease and placed her on the bed, sliding off her clothes smoothly. She required little help from him in returning the favor, her small hands quickly making short work of his apparel. The only noises they made were heavy breathing and the occasional pleasurable moan.

Further down the hall in his violently pink room, Timothy was brooding.

He didn't like John, he didn't like Amanda, he definitely didn't like Strahm and he hated Snake with a passion.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid Snake. He thinks he's so hot and cool just because he's six-foot tall and buff and got really nice sk—hang about! I hate him! I hate him from his full lips to his sculpted butt! Wait a second, why can't I think of any bad stuff. Oh yeah! I hate the fact that he's dating Julie! God, it burns me up to think that she's being… violated by that man! Oh God, who knows what kind of disgusting things he makes her do! He probably even touches her! The horror!_

Timothy continued along this path in his mind for quite some time, all the while scrunching up sections of the pink doona cover in his little fists.

Suddenly, from where he sat he heard a melody. As he strained his ears, the melody turned into a beat and then became a song.

By the time he had opened his door, he could hear faint lyrics.

"_Yeah freedom is mine! And you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me!"_

He followed the noise down the hall until he was standing outside the door to room 206.

From outside the door, he heard what sounded like slightly muffled cries.

_Oh no! He's hurting her! _He thought, pushing open he door to a vastly different scene to what he imagined.

In his mind he had imagined a mean looking Snake standing over a cowering Juliet, who would run over to him and hide behind him as he battled off the monstrosity once and for all.

He now saw two figures on the bed, facing away from him, moving together, emitting moans and cries of pleasure.

He then realized these two figures were Hoffman and Juliet.

Having sex.

Wild, loud sex.

He stood rooted to the spot for a second before whimpering and backing slowly out of the room, pulling the door shut softly.

Without thinking, he pelted down the hall to Genevieve's room, hoping to find her awake and eagerly awaiting his friendship.

As he approached her door, out of breath and flushed, he heard music and accompanying lyrics from her room too.

"_I want to hold you close. Soft breasts, beating heart. As I whisper in your ear. I want to fucking tear you apart…"_

He was intending to fling open the door and lecture Genevieve on how horrible her sex-centric lyrics were, and how the evils of sex were spreading Nationalism to its evil core.

Instead, he heard her and Strahm _screaming. _

_Oh God, they'd better not be fighting. I hate fighting. _He turned the handle and pushed open the door, greeted by the sight of the totally bare body of Strahm from the back, Genevieve's legs wrapped around him and the sound of their orgasmic screams.

He slammed the door shut and ran the rest of the way down the hall, down the stairs, through the lobby and out the door, continuing down the path leading to the hotel.

"You're all sick! Sick! Sick! Sick!" he panted, keeling over from lack of breath outside the walls of the hotel.

John and Amanda leant on the balcony, observing this with smug smiles on their faces.

"Is that sane or normal?" Amanda enquired, gesturing down towards Timothy.

"No." Replied John, raising his eyebrows at the boy.

"But is it entertaining?"

"Oh yes."


	6. Pants

**A/N: I am soooooo sorry, it's been so long since I updated this and that its so short, but the darling writer hasn't worked on this in some time and this is all I presently have XDD I promise to nag her about it though!! **

**Disclaimer: The Saw franchise does NOT belong to me, neither do any of its affiliates or characters.**

**This was NOT written by me. I claim to be the fountain-head of the idea, but this is written by my best friend, who doesn't have an account on here.**

* * *

_**Quote of the Day:  
****"Make a sentence out of THIS!"**_

* * *

_What did I do last night? _Juliet screamed in her head as she rolled over.

She was naked and her hips ached slightly. The room was a royal mess, clothes thrown everywhere, over lamps, on the dresser, over the ceiling fan.

As she attempted to untangle herself from the black silk sheets she realized something else was pinning her down.

The long, muscled arm of Mark Hoffman was slung over her waist. He was unconscious behind her, breathing slowly.

She followed the outline of his arm on her naked skin through the covers with baited breath, and then back up and over her shoulder.

Suddenly, she was face to face with a living, breathing, sleeping Sex God.

///

Some fifty metres from this scene, Peter Strahm was having a very similar experience.

He woke up with a smooth thigh wrapped around him and soft breathing in his ear.

Tilting his head to the side slightly to the left, he saw that a naked Genevieve was straddling him.

A smug grin took over his face. He stroked back and forth over her thigh a few times before letting his fingers stray slightly further up.

She awoke with a slight hitch on her breath, staring him down sleepily.

"What the…fuck?" she whispered softly at him, running a hand over her red curls.

"Sure," he shrugged, leaning across to kiss her. He assumed dominance over her quickly, trying to claim every part of her with his hands, her neck, her chest, her waist, her hips, her legs...

She broke the kiss long enough to assume a straddling position over him and grin seductively down at him.

"Calm down, Strahm. It's my turn," she whispered huskily, the sleepy look not yet gone from her deceptively sweet features.

///

Back in the Witch Queen room, Hoffman was making quick work of his wakeup scene with Juliet.

Her resistance to his advances had been minimal and a tease at best, so he quickly had her panting and screaming (louder than the previous night, if possible) once more.

In the middle of it all, Juliet's small red and black phone began vibrating on the nightstand.

"Oh God, what?!" she shouted, halting Hoffman's movements momentarily to answer the call.

"What!?" She yelled into the receiver, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"This is John. You, Hoffman, Genevieve and Strahm are to meet for breakfast downstairs in five minutes, no excuses," John's breathy voice sharply sounded, followed by a click and the dial tone.

"Who the hell was that?" Hoffman asked, rolling onto his back.

"Kramer. We're due downstairs, and we have to go get Genevieve an—"

"Strahm," he finished, the both of them sharing a wide-eyed look of panic.

They dressed in a frenzy and ran down the hall to the other's room.

Juliet put a finger to her lips and craned forwards, her ear to the door.

Her brown eyes widened to a near impossible size and she withdrew her head, coughing quietly.

"You do it," she mumbled, shuffling her feet.

"Do what?"

"Open the door. You do it."

"What th—okay…" He pushed open the wooden door and recoiled as he was met with the sight of a naked screaming Genevieve straddling an also very naked, groaning Strahm.

Genevieve stopped mid scream and pulled the sheets up with a loud squeak. Hoffman and Jules both stared at their feet, not knowing what to do or say.

"Yeah, breakfast is…" Juliet started, looking up and back down quickly.

"In…five…breakfast…Uh…" Hoffman mumbled into his hand.

"Yeah," Juliet concluded. Genevieve let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Listen, you two. Either join in or _get out,_" she growled.

The door was promptly slammed and Hoffman and Juliet tripped over each other fleeing for the stairs.

///

_Well this is awkward. _Genevieve mused, poking at her pancakes with a fork.

The six of them sat around the same table as last night, all refusing to make eye contact with each other.

Okay, that's not strictly true. Hoffman and Juliet made frequent subtle eye contact and Strahm stared conspicuously at Genevieve's chest while she ate.

It was mainly Timothy not looking at anyone or saying anything, his face clenched into an ugly expression.

Juliet had a sleepy expression on her face, not yet fully awake.

"Pants," Hoffman whispered at Juliet. She faltered and looked up at him.

"What?"

"Pants."

"What about them?"

"…You forgot to put them on, Jules."

Her face rapidly turning red, she looked down at her exposed thighs.

She had put on Hoffman's shirt, mistaking it for a dress and belting it to her middle as they had dressed hurriedly this morning. It fell just low enough to cover her (barely) when she stood up, but as she sat, it rode up to reveal her thighs and the beginnings of her purple underwear.

Her purple _lace _underwear.

She pulled ineffectively at the garment, whimpering quietly.

_Why does this always happen to me?! _She wondered, looking around at her friends, fully awake. _Oh, hang about. _

She looked across at Genevieve, who was wearing a snappy looking black jacket.

Without a top on underneath.

Her friend sat there, a lace bra being the last thing between her and total humiliation.

"Bra." Juliet mouthed at Genevieve.

"What?" She mouthed back.

Juliet gestured rapidly to her own cleavage, prompting her friend to look down at her own, rapidly pulling her jacket closed and smacking her forehead against the table.

"Juliet and Snake had sex!" Timothy blurted out suddenly. All eyes turned to him. "So did Geni and Strahm…" he trailed off.

For a minute or so, there was a very uncomfortable silence among the group.

"And if you listen closely," John began, his head resting on his hands, "you'll hear the very acute sound of no one, no one except you Timothy, caring."

"Retard," Amanda scoffed at him, jamming her fork into his hand lightly.

"_Ow!_" he squealed, grabbing his hand and inspecting for blood. There was none, but he began wailing nonetheless.

Juliet rose and gestured for Genevieve to join her at the bar.

"Do they serve drinks this early in the morning?" Genevieve wondered out loud.

"It's 1 in the afternoon, and this is a theme motel. What do you think?"

"Two Cosmos it is then." Genevieve chirped at the bored looking bartender.

"So, you had sex with Strahm," Jules began slowly, sipping at the pink liquid.

"Yes, and it was _amazing. _Way better than the fantasies."

Juliet scoffed and brushed a curl behind her ear, looking to the side.

"…What about you and Hoffman then?" Genevieve prompted.

Juliet's eyes snapped back to full attention and glinted with excitement.

"It was _epic,_" she explained, fiddling with the shirt.

"He bruised your hips…" Genevieve mused, looking down at her friend's hips.

"What?" Juliet exclaimed, staring down at the blue-ish purple-ish marks on her hips. The approximated the shape of a big hand.

"Wow, so he's rough is he?" Genevieve smirked into her drink.

"Wild is the term, Miss Hickey," her friend retorted.

Gen inhaled some of her drink and began spluttering.

"Are you _shitting me?_" she choked, pawing at her collarbone.

"Well…they're more like bite marks. But whatever."

The girls looked back at the breakfast table, their eyes widened in morbid curiosity at what kind of marks they might have left on their men.

Right on cue, a dark spot of what appeared to be blood appeared through the back of Strahm's shirt. Juliet gave her friend a knowing smirk.

"You scratched the shit out of him. Nice move, Cat Woman."

"Oh shut up." Genevieve snapped. "I take issues accepting criticism from people who are not wearing pants."


End file.
